Текст песни Тикки Шельен - Концептуальный блюз правой стороны

Maybe people are right,
Maybe we are not given
audio simplicity, no chance of simplicity.
But in old houses have a special
the only link
in the circuit, which closes the music.

First, a long and muddy
trash the way up,
paper and lined with brick.
Piles of broken rubble - the old town of the Siberian Crane,
and this shit is clear there is music.

Then - the gathering of dust
truth, whom the price - a nickle,
bent and rusty pieces of iron, old newspapers,
All this is called
Petersburg's attic,
where through a hole in the roof shines loud music.

And now I sit on the roof,
At the edge of Her,
I am looking from a height scare green flies,
as seen from the roof of the road
in the blue edge,
What are the very real subject of music.